Snow
by dabbling
Summary: Crime story. I'm trying to be true to the show with that part. Some humorous classic Goren detective work. Bobby & Alex live together in this one. A little hurt/comfort.
1. Chapter 1

Snow

Chapter 1

Sometimes, Bobby Goren liked to sit and think about words. He was doing it now, sitting in the booth by the window, coffee and the remnants of a bacon & egg plate in front of him. A light snow was falling outside, slowly blanketing the streets in white.

Snow. "He snowed me," people would say, meaning they didn't see it coming. It made sense. Anybody who'd ever been in a blizzard knew how the huge, fluffy flakes could render a person blind. He wondered if there were more to the meaning than that.

Snow was quiet, stealthy. A snowfall could turn into a blizzard in seconds, taking one by surprise. It was also beautiful. People never expect beauty to be deadly.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the ring of his cell. He dug it out of the pocket of his winter coat, folded on the booth seat next to him. He was too late to answer, but saw the call was from Eames.

Bobby had learned not to overthink communication with Alex. She might call about anything from the case they were working on, to remind him of an appointment, or just to tell him she was thinking of him. When he tried to predict the nature of her calls, he was almost always wrong. He dialed her back.

"Alex?" he said when she answered.

"Just wanted you to enjoy your morning off," she said. "Since I didn't see you before I left this morning."

He smiled. Alex had let him sleep in, a rare treat. "Thanks," he breathed. "I'll see you later." Bobby hung up and gathered up his things. It was almost time for his appointment.

* * *

The paperwork was overwhelming sometimes. Eames rubbed her eyes, sipped her coffee, and resumed typing. She overheard some other detectives discussing the forecast. She hoped the snow would slow down the criminals. That was the good thing about this kind of weather. Even killers didn't like to go out in it.

At last, she finished her report and clicked the 'print' button. She got up and walked over to the printer kiosk to pick it up. Instead of returning to her desk, she grabbed a pen off the nearest one and signed it. "Thanks for the pen," she told Logan, who was hunched over his own computer, finishing his own reports.

"I'll send you a bill," he said. They shared a smile and she went back to her desk.

* * *

Bobby bought a ham & swiss on rye and two sodas and brought them with him to the office. He greeted Alex and they spread out their lunches on their desks. As he gave her half of the sandwich, he saw the anticipation in her eyes.

"Doing great," he said. "Cholesterol's down, Blood pressure's down…" he peeked up at her. "Weight's down."

She smiled at him proudly, then changed the subject. "I got that McKinstry report finished," she said.

"That's been hanging over your head for a while," he noted. "I'm behind, too. I might need to stay late tonight."

She shook her head. "Not tonight, Bobby. They're predicting 8 inches by midnight." It wasn't that he couldn't manage it; it was just common sense.

He cocked his head and considered what she said, then nodded and took another bite of his sandwich. "Well, I'll just have to have a productive afternoon, then."

The only way Bobby could do that was to use a laptop in one of the interview rooms, with all the blinds shut and the door locked. He simply couldn't focus long enough on his writing when he was out in the bullpen. Too many distractions.

Alex rooted around in her drawer. She'd been saving this little joke for a long time, waiting for the right moment. She pulled out a hotel door hanger that said "Do not disturb" and handed it to him. "Have fun," she said.

He grinned.

* * *

The phone rang at 3 a.m. "Goren," he said. He hadn't been sleeping anyway, just staring at the shadows in the darkened bedroom, listening to her light snoring. He tapped her shoulder as he listened. "We'll be right there," he said, and hung up.

"Alex," he said, nudging her again. "We've got work to do."

Slowly, she pulled herself up out of the bed. "Coffee," she stated.

"I'm on it," he said, pulling on his pants.

* * *

The apartment was no longer in darkness since the police had brought in a generator to get the electric going again. The shabby apartment building was teeming with officers of one kind or another. So far, they had 13 victims, most dead from the cold, but two had been murdered. The survivors were being interviewed and transported to the hospital.

Goren and Eames stepped through the chaos into the apartment where the murders had taken place. It seemed quieter there, and they could feel death's presence. Their breath was visible in the icy cold. The first body was sprawled on the living room floor. "Female," Eames said. "About 40, home for the night in her pajamas."

Goren glanced at the corpse and continued walking. In the master bathroom, he found the other body. "Male, adolescent," he said. The boy's body was hunched over the side of the bathtub. His face was in the water, which had grown a layer of ice since the killing. "Drowned."

"Strangulation," Eames called from over the female body. The two detectives stepped carefully back into a more central location and stood together.

They verbally walked through what appeared to have happened. "Killer strangled the mom," Goren said. "The kid heard or saw, tried to stop him. Then he killed the boy."

Eames agreed. "She put up a fight. There are scratches and bruises up and down her arms. Feet, too, she tried to kick him."

Bobby wandered back into the bathroom. He could not move the body until the ice melted in order to preserve any evidence. He bent over and looked carefully. "Some cuts on his back, probably that broken lamp in the other room. One of the boy's hands was not in the water. Bobby scrutinized it. "I think there's flesh in his nails."

Bobby moved out of the way while the CSU team set up a space heater in the bathroom. He went back into the living room, looked closely at the pieces of the broken lamp on the floor; the layout of the room. He moved behind Eames, asking permission with his body language. She allowed him to grab her from behind. In slow motion, he acted out what he thought happened.

"The killer wrapped something around her neck and strangled her from behind." He let Eames go. She moved around Bobby, now taking the role of the second victim. "The boy jumped on the killer's back, trying to stop him." Eames didn't jump on, but did put her hands on his shoulders. Bobby took two steps slowly backward. "He moved back, knocking the boy into the lamp," Eames let go. "Then he manhandled him into the bathroom and drowned him."

Eames wandered the room. "In and out through the window," she commented. "Low fire escape." The cold wind blew in the still-open window.

A squeaky wheel drew their attention the other way. They watched as a gurney went down the hallway outside the apartment. "And all these other victims," Alex shook her head.

"He cut the power. On the coldest night of the year."

They went outside to examine that aspect of the crime scene.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

They looked like hell when they got back to 1 PP. The two of them had been in the arctic crime scene for over 3 hours. Even with winter coats, hats, and gloves, it was draining. They stopped at the coffee maker and filled two cups, both for the caffeine and the warmth.

Returning to their desks, Eames started typing to check background on the female victim. She stopped and wrapped her fingers around her coffee cup. "My fingers are so cold, I can't type," she explained.

"Take a few minutes and warm up," he said. He opened his binder, and began cleaning it out from the last case, preparing it for the new. It was a ritual that she had seen hundreds of times. With a new notepad installed, Bobby wrote the names of the two victims at the top of the page and drew a vertical line between them. Under each victim's name, he wrote what he knew about the person: age, estimated time of death, day of the week, date, and everything he had learned about the person in the apartment.

Marina Ehrlanger, 42 yrs old, single mother, strangulation. College ID badge, LaGuardia Community College.

Stanley Ehrlanger, 15 yrs old, son of 1st victim, child of divorce, absentee dad, drowned. PS 117. Stop & Go cups.

Bobby heard Eames typing and stopped writing. He took the opportunity to warm his hands on his coffee cup.

Eames shrugged off her winter coat, letting it fall against the back of her desk chair. It seemed like she went from one extreme to the other: first cold, now hot. She got what she wanted off the computer screen, wrote a note and handed it to Bobby. He picked up his phone while she continued surfing the 'net.

"Hello, my name is Detective Goren with NYPD. I am investigating a homicide and need some information about a student, Marina Ehrlanger." He rocked back and forth in the office chair while he waited for the information. "Yes?" As he listened, he wrote notes. "Yes, of course I understand. Thank you."

Alex handed him another note. Bobby dialed again. This was how they usually started their detective work: Alex on the computer and Bobby on the phone. At the end of the day, they would compare notes.

* * *

The City was really good at keeping the streets clear in the winter, but there were still delays. The bitter cold caused a lot of ice, and the ice caused accidents. It was inevitable. It took Bobby & Alex twice as long as usual to get home. Both were tired. Both were troubled by the case.

She hung her coat in the closet and went to the kitchen. "Cup of tea?" she asked him. Eames liked coffee in the morning, but she switched to tea in the evenings.

"Wine," he replied, hanging up his own coat and rehanging hers a little straighter.

They went to the couch with their drinks and sat down together. Bobby pulled his tie off and unbuttoned two buttons on his shirt as he clicked on the television. Their case was all over the news. He flipped channels, trying to get away from it. At last, he found an old sci-fi movie from the 70's. He left it there, knowing Alex wouldn't mind. She had to purposely disengage from the case if she was going to be able to rest. Cop shows were out, but Sci-fi was usually far-fetched enough that any violence it contained was tolerable. Alex let her head fall against the back of the couch, leaving her to stare at the ceiling.

He was staring at the tv, but his mind was working the case. Neither spoke of it. After a day like today, it was best to pretend they weren't cops. He pushed the case out of his mind for a moment, to check on her. She looked like she was struggling, as he was. He reached over and pulled her body against him, holding her protectively. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. The hint of coconut from her shampoo was fading.

Alex fell asleep, eventually, her head against his chest.

* * *

To cover the most ground, they split up for the day's interviews. Goren went to the college, Eames to the high school. Both felt the necessary information would come from the Mother's circle, but information was fluid. Over time, it changed. The fresher the interviews, the more accurate.

Bobby arrived at the community college and went straight to Marina's advisor's office. Patrick Lang, read the nameplate on his office door.

He welcomed Bobby in and offered him a chair. "Mr. Lang, how well did you know Ms. Ehrlanger?"

"She was one of my students. I didn't meet with her that often, just at course selection time. She was a woman with a mission, you know. She was going to get the most for her money here. Get the degree and then go get the job. That was her attitude."

"She was driven… because of her son."

"Oh yes, she told me she was a single mother, and that money was tight. She was planning to get a job at the schools when she finished here."

"Food Service Management… like the school cafeteria?"

"Yes, she wanted to get on with the public schools. She said after hearing about her son's lunches, she wanted to do something about it."

"She was a good student?"

He nodded. "Non-traditional students usually are. They're looking for an education, not a boyfriend."

"Are you aware who her friends were? Study partners? That kind of thing?"

"She hasn't been in any of my classes this semester. She's in Bob Willis' business management class. He could probably answer that for you."

Goren wrote down the name in his book, and thanked the man for his time. He tucked his binder under his arm and wandered around the campus, getting a feel for the place. Most of the students were kids, in their early 20s. They walked around in groups and flocked together to the commons. He saw study groups in the library. Of course, it was impossible to know which of the older people on campus were students and which were professors, but Goren guessed that he only saw about 3 non-traditional students there.

* * *

Eames waited in the principal's office for the friends of Stan Ehrlanger to be brought to her. She'd already spoken with a young girl, who was crying so hard she couldn't understand half of what she'd said. Next up was a 16 year old boy who was reported to be Stan's best friend.

The boy came in looking nervous. Eames gave him a reassuring smile and offered him a seat. The school counselor sat next to him, ready to end the interview if she felt it wasn't good for his emotional health.

"You're Charlie, right?"

"Charlie Fisher," he said. "Stan was my best friend. I… I can't believe... he's gone."

She nodded compassionately. "Best friends. What kind of things did you boys do together?"

"Well, we would usually hang out after school. I just got my license," he said proudly. "If I could get the car from my folks, we'd go out driving, try to pick up some girls," he said, then flushed with embarrassment when he realized he'd said that in front of the school counselor.

"You went to Stop & Go a lot," she said, matter of factly.

"Oh, yeah. That's where we'd get gas, then turn around and come back home."

"How late would you guys stay out? That Stop & Go is at least an hour from here."

"We'd always get home by eleven. His mom insisted he be home by eleven, or she wouldn't let him come with me."

"Did you go out last night?" Eames asked.

"No. His mom was home, and she wanted him to have 'family time' with her."

"She's not usually home, then?"

"No, she usually works, and then goes to college, and then has to study or something. Most nights she gets back kind of late."

"But always by eleven?"

"Yeah, she was always there waiting when I'd bring Stan home." The young man's eyes teared up. "I can't believe it… I can't believe he's gone." He sobbed a few times, but with some deep breaths, was able to pull it back together.

Eames waited until he regained his composure. He spoke again. "He was so mad at his Mom yesterday. She said he couldn't go with me, and he was pissed." He turned red from embarrassment again, realizing he had just cussed in school. "Sorry, Mrs. Dee." The counselor brushed it off. "He was… mad… at his Mom. He said some really bad things, called her some names…"

Eames couldn't let this young kid carry such a burden. "He did right by his Mom. He was a hero, Charlie."

Charlie could see that she meant what she was saying. He cried again.

"You can go, now. Thank you," said Alex.

* * *

Goren got a few names from the Business teacher, but decided to hang around for the actual class to show up, instead. He spoke with the professor about it, and the man agreed. He called Alex.

"Hi Bobby," she said. He could hear the tension in her voice. She was very tough, but a whole day's worth of crying innocent kids was wearing at her.

"Hi," he said, wishing he was talking in person instead of on the phone. "Her class meets tonight at 5:45. I'm going to stick around, meet them face to face."

"You want me to come out? We're about done here."

"No," he said. "You sound like you've put in a full day. I'll be fine. See you later."

"Bobby?"

"Yeah, Alex?"

"Stan's best friend said she usually went to class, then to study _or something_ before coming home at night. Keep your eyes open."

"Thanks," he said, and ended the call. They never said "I love you" on the phone. It wasn't a rule or anything… things just sort of evolved that way. It was all right, though. He could hear it even when it wasn't said. He hoped she could, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The class started arriving at about 5:30. Most of them were young kids, but Bobby noticed one woman, about 35, come in and drop her stuff on the floor beside her desk. He observed them all from the back of the room. The overachievers, who spent the time before class reading ahead in their book; the procrastinators, who were rushing to find the page they left off reading so they could finish it before class started; and the ones who were confident that they were doing what was expected, who sat staring at the wall or idly checking text messages on their phones.

None of them set off alarms for him. He wondered if this would turn out to be a dead end.

"Good evening, everyone," said Professor Willis. "I'm afraid I have some bad news to share. Your classmate, Ms. Ehrlanger, was killed yesterday in her home." A collective gasp could be heard, followed by some whispering. "This is Detective Goren," he indicated the back of the room, "He would like to speak with you for a moment."

Bobby awkwardly got himself out of the student side-entry desk and went to stand at the front of the room. As he walked, he put his badge on his handkerchief pocket. "Thank you, Mr. Willis," he began. "I'm sorry to interrupt your coursework like this, but as most of you probably know, time is the enemy when we…uh, cops… investigate a homicide. I thought this way, I could find out who knew her well, and talk to some of you right away, tonight." The room was silent. He waited, and waited. No one moved a muscle.

"Uhm, so…" Bobby walked across the front of the classroom. "If you knew Ms. Ehrlanger outside of class, please raise your hand, and Mr. Willis will make a list for me. I'll… uhm… wait outside."

Bobby went outside and folded his arms over his binder, listening at the door. After a few minutes of Mr. Willis' drone, he heard some talking amongst the students. He raised one hand to rub his neck, and then folded his arms again. At last the door opened. Mr. Willis handed him a list, and the 35 year old woman came out.

He offered her his hand. "Hi. Detective Goren," he introduced himself.

"Brenda Staples," she said, shaking his hand meekly. He led her to a couple of upholstered chairs that were by a fake potted plant in the hallway. He opened his binder and readied his pencil.

"You knew Ms. Ehrlanger outside of class?" he asked.

She nodded. "We ate dinner together a few times, just before class. We had a lot in common."

He smiled his most charming smile. "Because you're a… non-traditional student."

She smiled back. "Because I'm a single Mom."

He nodded and listened with interest. She continued, "You might have noticed that all the other…students… are uhm…"

"Kids," he offered, and she was relieved.

"We were kind of drawn together. We agreed to meet before class a couple of times. She was really nice. And she loved her son. She would always call him to make sure he was eating a decent supper and to remind him what time to be home. I heard her give him grief about homework more than once, too." Brenda teared up. "I can't believe she was killed."

"Ms. Staples, do you know what she would usually do… _after_… class?" He accompanied his question with a rotating movement of his hand.

She looked around. "I think she was seeing someone."

"Someone here?"

"I don't know. But I think so. The last couple of weeks, she seemed a lot more dressed up than at the beginning of the semester."

Bobby made some notes in his binder. "Did she ever mention a name?"

Brenda shook her head. "No. I'm sorry I can't tell you more."

"It's okay," he said, "you've been a big help." Bobby referred to his list, and realized it only had 3 names on it. Brenda was one of them. "Uhm, could you ask… Dalton Phipps to come out here?"

She nodded and went back to the classroom. Goren looked at the snowy campus through the picture windows while he waited. He heard the young man's steps coming down the hall. Something about a guy with two last names bugged Bobby, but the way the kid introduced himself clinched his decision about his approach.

"Uhm, I'm Dalton Phipps," he said. He folded his arms.

Goren smiled and offered his best 'good ole boy' handshake. "Glad to meet you, Dalton." He clapped the young man on the back, making him completely uncomfortable. "Tell me about you and Ms. Ehrlanger."

Dalton looked alarmed. "There was nothing… we didn't… I just studied with her a couple of times, that's all."

"Yeah, studied, right. Gotcha." Bobby winked at him.

"No, look… Detective, I never did anything with Marina."

"But you.. _studied_.. with her."

"Yeah, we went to the library and studied. Chapter 7. And Chapter 9."

Goren nodded and wrote. "Chapters 7 & 9. Got it."

"She said I reminded her of her son. She talked about him a lot. Actually, that's why I don't study with her anymore. She didn't want to study, she wanted to just talk, like I was a shrink or something."

Bobby's earlier attitude drifted away. "People tell shrinks a lot of things. What'd she tell you?"

"She was just, she felt like she failed her son. She was just going to make sure he got an easy life before he finished high school."

"An easy life?"

"She said she was tired of telling him 'no.' She wanted to be able to just give him money to go out with his friends, get him a car, that kind of stuff."

"She ever mention anything about how she was going to… make all that happen?"

"Just she was going to get some big job once she finished school… Denison Industries, something like that. Sounded like running a canteen for a factory or something."

"All right, thanks Dalton." He patted his back again. "Would you send Carla Petchwick out?"

He waited, and interviewed Carla, but she really added nothing of value to the information he already had. He double checked with the professor that no one had been absent, thanked the class again, and went to his waiting car to head home. The sky was already dark, and it was starting to snow again.

* * *

Alex knew she shouldn't worry, but she saw the weather reports on the news and knew the roads were getting worse. She curled up in a throw blanket on the couch and numbed her mind with an 'I Love Lucy' show.

She could not have described the relief she felt when she heard his keys in the door. She got up and waited for him to stomp the snow off his shoes in the doorway. He was dripping wet, and his wool coat was soaked.

"Road closed two blocks down. I had to leave the car and walk," he explained. As he dumped his wet coat on a chair, she wrapped the throw blanket around his shoulders. Then she got a towel for his hair and handed it to him.

Alex gave him her cup of hot tea and hung up his winter coat while he sat on the couch, shivering. When she sat beside him, she was shocked by how cold he was. She cuddled up against him, adding her body heat to the blanket's warmth.

"I guess I didn't have to leave the car," he said. "But the detour probably would have taken longer to get home than walking did."

"It's okay, Bobby. You're home." She really didn't give a damn about the car. He drank some of the tea and felt like he was finally warming up again.

"Good day?" She asked.

"I got some leads." He looked at her. "You?"

She shook her head. "A lot of good kids. Sad kids."

* * *

They walked together to collect the car in the morning. It was still there, and intact, thanks to Bobby's thoughtful parking job. He unlocked the door and laid his binder in the back seat, then helped Alex scrape the ice from the windows. They climbed in.

The walk had been a quiet one. _That was something else about snow_, Bobby thought. _It could alter your perception. Noisy becomes quiet. Filthy appears clean._

"I'll do some digging on that company you said… what was it?" The air in the car was still cold enough to see breath.

Bobby fished his binder out of the back seat and opened it. "Denison Industries," he read. Then he turned the heat up to full blast.

"It's not going to do any good until the engine's hot," she said.

Before they could have that argument again, the car skidded a little on the slick road. Bobby grabbed the dash reflexively, and Alex redoubled her concentration. "Sorry," she said a few minutes later.

"It's okay," he said.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Denison Industries makes electrical cables. They make all kinds, from the big gauge stuff the power companies use to the little wires, like the ones that hook guitars to amps."

Bobby's head tilted at the last tidbit, but he continued listening.

"They have about 600 employees, working 3 shifts. The place is always running."

"You'd need a good size canteen to feed that many employees. Sounds better than a school cafeteria job."

The phone rang. "Goren," he said. He listened, then he hung up. "Autopsies are done." Eames grabbed her stuff and followed him out of the office.

* * *

Dr. Rodgers stood over the body of Marina Ehrlanger and explained her findings, none of which were news to Goren and Eames.

All the way down, Goren'd had that 'look.' He suspected something, but didn't want to voice it yet. Now, he moved over the body, deliberately placing his gloved hands at his sides. He leaned down as if to kiss the corpse on the neck.

Alex just watched Bobby do his thing, like she had so many times before. As he sniffed the ligature marks on Marina's neck, Rodgers turned her head and rolled her eyes. None of the other detectives got so intimate with the bodies.

Bobby sniffed, moved away, then sniffed again. "Smells like rubber," he said.

Eames pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, nodding. "Any sign she had a hot date before the murder?" she asked the Doctor.

"Unless you count Chicken Fingers and Tater Tots as a hot date."

Goren looked at Eames. "Sounds like cafeteria food."

She moved over to the table that held the boy's body, and rattled off her findings. "Skin in his fingernails, sent it to trace."

Bobby looked closely at his face. He had taken a beating before being submerged.

"Strangely enough, he didn't have the same dinner as Mom." Rodgers announced. Both detectives looked at her in anticipation. "He had a roast beef sandwich."

* * *

Charlie Fisher sat next to his mom in one of the "non-threatening" rooms at 1 PP. He was even more nervous than he had looked in the Principal's office, and Eames felt sorry for him. The Captain had wanted them to play hardball with him, but Eames insisted that he was a good kid, and Bobby trusted her instincts.

They were going to take the compassionate approach instead.

Bobby and Alex entered the room and introduced themselves, taking the time to shake hands with Charlie's mother.

"He's not a… suspect or anything, is she?" she asked.

"Oh, no," said Eames. "We just needed to talk to him again, get some facts straight." She sat down next to Bobby, who was already rooting through his open binder.

"You see, Charlie," Bobby began, "We got the autopsy report from the coroner's office, and something she said doesn't mesh with what you told my partner yesterday."

"I told you everything I could think of," Charlie said, a little defensively.

Eames smiled at him. "I know you did, Charlie. But Stan was your best friend. And sometimes friends… cover for each other."

All four pairs of eyes regarded each other in silence. "Well, what is it then?" demanded Mrs. Potts.

"Charlie, you told my partner… that Stan had to stay home with his Mom all night because they were…" his voice trailed off and he waited.

"Family time," said Charlie.

Bobby snapped his fingers and looked at Eames for verification. "Family time! That's it."

He reflected in silence a moment, then said, "When most people have family time, they…" he shrugged, "eat together… watch movies… play games…"

"Yeah, so?" asked Charlie, truly confused.

"Stan didn't eat the same dinner that his Mom did," whispered Goren, as if the only person in the room with him was Charlie.

Charlie's face reddened. "I took him to that fast-food joint and he got a roast beef sandwich." He looked to Eames for help. "I told you he was mad at his Mom. It was… just a little rebellion, that's all. She was late getting home anyway, and he said 'screw her,' and told me to take him somewhere."

Eames gave Goren an "I told you so" look.

They sat in silence once more. Finally, Mrs. Potts leaned forward. "Is that all?"

"Where do you think Ms. Ehrlanger was?" Bobby asked quietly.

"I don't know, just that she was late. She told Stan she'd be home when he got home from school, and she wasn't and… I took him out."

Bobby snapped his binder shut, a satisfied look on his face. "Fair enough," he said. He thanked them for coming in.

* * *

Denison Industries was not much to look at from outside. It looked like a cross between a warehouse and an office building. Eames followed Bobby up the walk and into the visitor's door.

They introduced themselves and were told to wait by the receptionist. As she went to speak with the manager, Eames sat in a chair. She took in everything with her eyes, while Bobby milled about in the room, looking at and touching nearly everything he saw.

"Good afternoon, Detectives," said John Marsh, the COO of Denison.

The shook his hand and followed him into his office. Again, Eames sat down, but Bobby remained standing. "Don't mind him," she said. "He's just a little hyper."

"I'm not sure how we can help you," stated Mr. Marsh.

"There was a young lady," Eames said, "A student at LaGuardia College. She was looking to get a job here."

"Doing what?"

"Cafeteria Manager," Bobby cut in, staring at the books on the man's shelf. "There was a picture, out in the lobby…" Bobby turned mid-sentence, appeared at a loss for words, and then left the room, surprising both Eames and the COO. He returned immediately, with the picture freshly plucked off the wall and in his hand. The receptionist followed behind him, looking quite unhappy.

"This picture… shows your Canteen staff. You contract that out to someone else?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, we do, but we've been considering making it an in-house operation."

Bobby handed the picture back to the receptionist, who went to replace it on the wall. Eames sat up while Bobby fumbled with opening his binder. "Who do you contract for that service with now?" she asked.

"Masco Foods," he replied. Bobby took notes.

"And who is the manager here?"

"Marty Frakes." Bobby scribbled the name. "Been here several years, we've never had any issues."

"Then why the change? To in-house?" interjected Bobby.

"You know business. It's always about the bottom line. Our preliminary reports indicate that it will be more cost-effective to run the Canteen in-house."

"Could we have copies of those reports?"

He was surprised by the request, but gave it some quick thought. "I don't see why not."

Goren and Eames stood together while the receptionist copied the reports. They shook hands with Marsh and were escorted by an office worker to the Canteen.

The kitchen was buzzing with activity. The hum of the fans and the sounds of prep knives against cutting boards only served to ramp up Bobby's restless energy. He flitted around the kitchen, only just staying out of people's way.

"Can I help you?" Asked the manager.

"Mr. Frakes," Eames said, offering her hand. "I'm Detective Eames, this is Detective Goren," he swooped in to offer his handshake, "and we'd like to talk with you, if we may."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Frakes waved them away from the noisy kitchen and into his much quieter office. Marty's desk contained neat stacks of paperwork, in orderly files. His credentials hung on the wall behind his desk, and he even had a potted plant atop a file cabinet in the corner. The detectives laid their folded coats over the back of a chair. It gave Goren an excuse not to sit down.

"We're working a case involving Marina Ehrlanger. What can you tell us about her?" Eames asked, as she eased into the empty chair.

"Marina… yes, I remember her. She came in to interview me a few times for a school project."

Bobby stopped fiddling with the nick-knacks on the shelf and slowly looked back. Then he returned his attention to the shelf.

"What kind of project?" asked Alex amiably.

"She asked me a lot of questions about cost management. You know, how we keep costs down, what we do if food doesn't sell as anticipated, that kind of thing."

Bobby cleared his throat. "Sounds like a report," he said, pulling one out of his binder and looking at it.

"What do you do with food that doesn't sell?" Alex thought she knew what Bobby was looking at.

"Well, it depends on the item. Bread, we give to a local homeless shelter. Something cooked like chicken, we can usually try to serve the next day. Some things just have to be discarded, though."

"Does that happen a lot?"

Frakes shrugged. "About as much as anyplace else. Denison is pleased with how we run things."

Bobby spoke with his back turned to the man, still perusing the report in his binder. He cleared his throat again. "Why are they considering switching to an in-house cafeteria, then?"

Frakes slight bouncing in his seat suddenly halted. He thought before he spoke. "That's just an empty threat," he laughed. "They're having a hard time right now, trying to cut costs. John was just trying to scare me into being thriftier." He smiled. Eames and Goren smiled back.

* * *

The rest of the day was spent in the office. Goren read the rest of the reports and Eames called the college.

She hung up the phone. "That 'homework' wasn't homework. None of the students had to do a research project like that."

Goren highlighted a paragraph in the report and handed it to her. "Read this." He gave her a moment to read, then asked, "Sound familiar?"

"She was the one doing the research for Denison."

* * *

When they got home that night, Bobby went back to the bedroom. Alex was putting together something for dinner. When he didn't come back out right away, she went into the room and found him lying on the bed, apparently asleep.

She removed his tie. He stirred. "You all right?" she asked quietly.

"Hmmm… just tired," he whispered, keeping his eyes shut.

She kissed his cheek. "Let me help you get out of these clothes."

She awoke in the morning to the sound of his rummaging in the kitchen cabinets. He saw her come in and stopped. He had all of the spices out on the counter. "Where's the ibuprophin?" He asked grumpily.

She went to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and got him the bottle, wondering why he didn't think to look there. It is called a 'medicine' cabinet, after all. She handed it to him and he muttered, "thanks."

He was dressed. "I gotta go. I'll meet you at work later." He kissed her on the cheek and hurried out.

"Bye, Hon," she said to the empty room after he left.

* * *

He looked a little better when he walked in to work. He sat down across from her and took off his hat and gloves. His cheeks were red from the bitter wind. "Sorry about this morning," he said. "I had a headache."

"I figured," she said.

Logan overheard as he was walking by and bit his tongue. He gave them a knowing look and chuckled.

Eames rolled her eyes. She and Bobby revamped what they had on the case. "She's driven to finish school fast, get a good job, give her boy everything he ever wanted," Bobby said.

"So instead of looking for a job, she decides to create her own."

Bobby wriggled out of his winter coat and hung it up on the rack nearby. When he returned, he said, "I wonder how she got connected with Denison Industries to begin with."

"I'll call the company," Eames said.

"I'll call the school," said Bobby, popping a cough drop in his mouth.

"You sick?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Getting a sore throat."

Eames brought some papers back from the fax machine. "John Marsh comes back clean, Denison Industries, as well." She handed the paperwork to Bobby. "Masco Foods has a couple of dings…" she read silently for a moment. "Some failed health inspections, a couple of food transport violations… nothing major."

"Our friend Marty Frakes has a record," Bobby added, looking through some paperwork in his binder. "He did some time for petty larceny back in 2000." He had a juvie record… sealed."

"I wonder if we can get it un-sealed?" she mused. Her phone rang. "Eames… great, fax it over." She looked up at Bobby. "Results came back on the DNA from the kid's nails." Bobby followed her to the fax machine and stood reading over her shoulder. "Doesn't match anything in ours or the FBI's system."

Bobby said thoughtfully, "He's either brand new… or very good."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The sore throat kicked in full force during the night, along with major head congestion. Bobby thrashed around in the bed a while, until he realized he was disturbing Alex. He got up and rummaged in the cabinets and the medicine cabinet, looking for something that would relieve the symptoms.

This time, he found the cold medicine without Alex's help. He took two tablets and moved onto the couch. He was too miserable to sleep, so he opened his binder and reread everything inside it.

* * *

Menthol Eucalyptus was not the most attractive scent in the world. Every person that Goren came near registered that he was sucking cough drops and must be sick. They kept their distance.

His voice was unreliable, as well. It was a strain to speak, and when he did, he never knew if he would sound like himself or some kind of cartoon mouse. He told Eames he would stay back and research while she pushed the pavement.

Her first stop was a little storefront office near the Park. "GEO Business Solutions," the sign read. She came in wearing her badge on her belt, and all 3 employees stopped what they were doing and rose to attention.

She smiled. "Hi. I'm Detective Eames, NYPD. I have a few questions…"

"It's Marina, isn't it?" asked a young man in his 30's. He had black hair and a thin mustache. Eames gave him an affirmative glance and he continued, "I thought I saw… the news, where all those people froze to death… that was where she lived, right?"

Eames nodded sadly. "I'm investigating her death," she explained. "It came to my attention that she did some research for your firm, for a cost-assessment report?"

"Yeah, she did that a few times for us," mustache said. He realized he had a lot to say and offered the detective a chair. She sat down and pulled out her rarely-used, pocket sized notebook.

"First, can I get your names?" she asked. She wrote them all in her notebook: Howard Bissant, Mark Presser, and Doug Whedon.

Howard, the one with the mustache, spoke first. "I met her out at LaGuardia," he said. "I was a guest lecturer in one of her business classes last year. She really seemed to know her stuff. She spoke to me after class, and we went out for a drink."

Doug chimed in, "We had a contract with Brach Office Supplies, and they were so huge and hard to navigate that we were running out of time to deliver our reports."

Howard continued, "Marina joined us for a couple of weeks, and we got the job done. Ever since then, she's been on our short list if we need some extra help."

"You have a contract with Denison Industries?" Eames asked.

Mark answered, "That's my baby. I'm convinced that they could save a lot of money if they lose the Canteen contract and do it themselves."

"So you sent Marina to work on that?"

He nodded. "We all knew she was studying Food Service Management. We thought it might result in a job for her, if she played her cards right."

* * *

Goren was dozing off in the chair when the phone rang. "Goren," he squeaked. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time sounding more human. As he listened, he slid a cough drop out of the paper and into his mouth. "Yeah," he took notes in his binder. "Okay, yeah, thanks." He hung up and looked back, rereading the information he'd just been given.

Two weeks ago, Marina Ehrlanger had been seen at a restaurant with Marty Frakes.

The cough started in the afternoon. Goren was getting sicker by the minute, and didn't have the energy to take care of himself. Logan passed his desk and dropped a drugstore bag on it without a word.

Goren opened the bag and removed a bottle of cough syrup. According to the label, it would treat over 9 symptoms. He opened the top and took a swig, then offered Logan a discreet toast from across the room.

* * *

He was writing a new page of notes in the binder, reorganizing everything they had so far. Looking at the names, he knew there were several people they needed to know more about. He stuck tab-sized post-its on each of those names.

Interrupted by a coughing fit, he turned glassy eyes to the list again. Now Bobby organized a to-do list for tomorrow.

When Eames dropped her coat on her chair, she could see how miserable he was. His face was flushed, eyes glimmering, and she could hear the cold in his voice when he spoke. "You need to get some rest," she said.

"Not yet," he countered. "I'm waiting on Frakes' juvie record."

She felt his forehead. "Suit yourself," she said, but she went to the drink machine and bought him a bottle of water.

When she returned, Bobby was reading the freshly printed fax. He coughed. "Minor stuff, really… but look who he was in cahoots with." He showed her the paper.

"I think we're finally on to something," she said. The fax indicated that as a juvenile Marty Frakes was arrested along with Benny Bernasconi, known to have mob connections.

* * *

Goren practically slept the whole ride home. Alex was concerned, but it was snowing again, and she had to concentrate in order to drive without losing control. Visibility was low, and the roads were very slick. The tail lights of the car in front of her were like tiny floating reddish orbs. She couldn't see the car they were attached to, and so just kept her eyes on the lights, trying to keep a safe distance behind them.

She parked in the garage and breathed a relieved sigh.

"Good driving," he croaked. He forced himself up and out of the car. She slowed her pace to match his. The cold air in the garage threw Bobby's lungs into spasms. At last, they entered the warmth of the building and finally, the apartment.

She helped him get out of his clothes, and he crawled straight into bed. Alex poured herself a glass of wine and read on the couch until she fell asleep.

She felt something warm overtop her, and then heard him coughing. Alex opened her eyes and registered that she now had a blanket. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Benny Bernasconi looked the part. He was now in his 30's, but he still carried himself like a punk kid. They looked at him through the glass of the interrogation room, watching his nervous habits as he waited for the officers to come in.

He drummed his hands on the table, then he paced the room a few times. For fun, he flipped them off through the 2-way glass. He ran his hands through his hair, then sat down again.

Bobby coughed. He looked and felt much better today, but the cough was worse.

"Ready?" Alex asked him. He nodded and followed her in.

Alex spoke. "Hello, Mr. Bernasconi, sorry to keep you waiting." She sat down across from him. Bobby moved to the side of the table and stood. "When was the last time you saw Marty Frakes?" She asked, getting right to business.

He looked surprised. "Marty? Oh, uh, maybe a month ago?"

Goren stood beside Benny, raised the arm next to him, and sneezed into the crook of his elbow. It unnerved the man, and he scooted his chair on the floor to move away from the detective. Goren noticed. He moved to the empty chair on the other side of Benny and sat down.

"Sorry about dat. I hab a cold." He said.

"Uh, no worries…" Benny said.

"What did you and Marty talk about?" Bobby asked.

"Oh, I see him every once in a while at the…" Goren raised a finger and leaned back, anticipating another sneeze. "Bar," Benny finished hurriedly, cowering from the ill man sitting beside him.

Bobby sneezed, again into the arm closest to Benny. "Sorry," he said.

Eames had to work to maintain her poker face. "Which bar?" she asked, and wrote the name down on a ledger in front of her.

"What do you know about Masco Foods?" Eames asked. Bobby made a show of wiping his hands on the table in front of him.

"It's Marty's job. He runs a good business at that factory." He perked up, thinking saying something positive might help end the ordeal. "I hear he gives food to charities around town, too."

Goren coughed into his hand, causing Benny to lean back away from him. "You ever meet Marina Ehrlanger?" he asked, his articulation still impeded by his stuffy nose.

"Marty had a girl with him last time, but I never got her name."

Eames slid a picture in front of him. It was a snapshot of Marina and her son at a ball game.

"Yeah, that could be her, I don't really remember." Goren sneezed again, this time without warning, and Benny almost jumped out of his chair.

"You sure it was a month ago?"

"Hell, I don't know…" he got out his cell phone, and Goren all but touched it with his germ-ridden hands. "I'm just gonna look at my calendar," Benny explained, waving the phone in the air to get it away from Goren. "No, here, it was Monday a week ago. I know 'cause I had to have a drink after I had to renegotiate child support with my ex." He turned the phone so Bobby could read it. "See? Monday last week."

Bobby coughed hard, then offered Benny his hand to shake. The man declined.

After Bernasconi left the room, Eames laughed aloud. "You are hilarious," she said to Bobby.

He coughed a little less blatantly and gave her a shy smile.

* * *

They decided to go out and eat at the restaurant where Ehrlanger was seen with Marsh. They needed to eat, and Bobby didn't feel like cooking. It was a fine dining place, complete with white-coated staff and an ice sculpture in the middle of the room. They declined the coat check and settled at a table near the kitchen.

Bobby dug the bottle of cough syrup out of the inside pocket of his coat and took a quick swig when no one was looking. "I feel like I should have a flask," he croaked.

They ordered wine, and afterwards, their meals. They showed pictures to the wait staff and asked about Ehrlanger and Marsh.

One waiter, a young college age kid, offered his opinion. "They were really deep in discussion. She got pretty mad at him, and I heard her say something like 'you're gonna do something about it.'" He looked around warily. "I'll get in trouble if I stay at one table too long." They waved him off.

"Gonna do something about what?" Alex whispered. Bobby shrugged, but wrote a note in his binder.

He used his credit card to pay the hefty bill, but he hadn't enjoyed it. His cold had dulled his taste buds. Alex seemed pleased with her meal, though.

In the car, Bobby huddled up inside his coat, again with the heater on full blast. "Let's bring Marsh in tomorrow. Maybe a change of scenery will loosen his tongue."

She nodded, and turned the wipers on. "Get him out of his comfort zone." She put both hands on the wheel to make a turn.

Bobby coughed into his hand and fished another cough drop out of his pocket.

"How you doing?" she asked quietly.

He rubbed his chest. "Burns." He coughed painfully as if to illustrate his point.

"Maybe you should get checked out."

"I'll give it a week," he said.

* * *

Marsh sat uncertainly in the interrogation room. He fiddled with his tie.

Eames came in, carrying two coffees. "Sorry to have you in here, all the other rooms were taken," she lied.

"Oh, okay." He seemed relieved. "I was starting to wonder if I needed a lawyer or something."

She smiled at him and handed him a coffee. "Mr. Marsh, when we spoke to you out at Denison, you didn't indicate that you knew Ms. Ehrlanger. We now know that you went out to dinner with her."

"Oh, uh, well, you didn't really ask about that."

Eames sat and waited, sipping her coffee. Bobby watched from the observation room, thinking how smart she was to just wait for him to talk.

"Okay, well, yes, I took her out. She was pretty," he said. "That's not against the law, is it?"

Eames set her coffee down and moved forward in her seat. Her voice was stern. "Mr. Marsh, Marina Ehrlanger was murdered. I'd think twice about being sarcastic if I were you."

"Murdered? Jeez, I didn't know! Am I a suspect?"

Eames kept her poker face and said very quietly, "not yet."

"I took her out to the Golden Eagle. I really did think she was pretty. She had just finished that report for GEO, and I thought I wouldn't see her again."

Eames sipped her coffee. "What'd you talk about? Over dinner?"

"Oh, Denison, really. She was all worked up about how I had to lose the contract with Masco."

"Why?" She wrote in her ledger.

"Well, like that other detective said, she wanted a job. I guess she figured if I broke off the agreement with Masco, there would be a job opening for her." There was a knock on the window, and Eames excused herself.

She went back to the observation room with Bobby. "Let's just let him sit and fidget a while," he said.

Eames gave Bobby a once-over. He looked a little paler than usual, and his nose was a little redder. "You take some medicine?" she asked him.

"Oh, uh…" he retrieved the bottle from a chair nearby and took a swig. "Yeah."

She patted his arm. "I got a feeling about this guy," she said.

He looked at her and nodded. Her gut feelings were typically right on. "He's not lying, but he's not telling us the whole truth, either," Bobby observed.

Marsh sat back and drank his coffee. He bounced his leg nervously under the table. Then he began playing with his watchband.

Eames stood up and went back in. "Sorry," she said politely. "So, Mr. Marsh, what did Ms. Ehrlanger mean when she said…" she referred to a note in her ledger in front of her, "you're gonna do it."

Marsh cleared his throat. "It's Marty." He sighed. "She found out he's been skimming some of the product, marking it as a loss for us and then selling it himself. She insisted I needed to end the contract, get rid of him."

"But you didn't want to?"

His eyes darted around the room nervously, as if there was someone there with him. "He's been with us a long time. One time, a couple years back, I was working late, and I saw some guy come visit Marty in the back of the Canteen. The guy had a gun, and wasn't even trying to hide it." He cleared his throat again. "I don't know who his friends are, but what he was taking wasn't really hurting us. That gun… well that woulda hurt."

Eames frowned. Bobby opened his binder and fished out a picture of Bernasconi. He marched into the interrogation room and laid it in front of Marsh.

"Yeah… that's him," Marsh almost whispered.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The two detectives sat at their desks, papers strewn around them. Bobby hung up the phone and turned to his partner, pausing for a cough. "There's no sign of Bernasconi. He skipped town right after we spoke with him."

"I think it's time to audit Masco foods."

"Maybe… we should wait… find out what kind of 'product' Frakes is skimming."

* * *

A beige van was parked at the edge of the Denison parking lot, with a view to the back of the building. It was too obvious to run a motor and observe, too cold to sit without the motor- -the windows would fog up. The van was designed with a separate power source to run the audio surveillance equipment in the back. Goren and Eames weren't doing any listening, but they did have heat.

Goren peeked through the windshield. "Nothing yet," he said.

"Sandwich?" Eames offered, taking one out of a sack.

Goren accepted, sat down beside her, still looking in the direction of the windshield.

"According to Marsh, the trucks come in the afternoons. Shouldn't be long now." Eames commented.

Bobby coughed so hard he turned deep red. She looked at him, concerned. "Still burning?" she asked.

He nodded, momentarily unable to speak. "Probably bronchitis," he whispered. "I'll make an appointment."

"Hello," she said, sitting up. A truck was pulling around to the back. They both slid into their coats. They stepped outside, slipping on toboggan hats as they went. The icy cold air outside was so bitter it seemed to freeze their nasal passages.

Bobby held his gloved hand over his mouth, trying to warm the air before he inhaled, and stave off another coughing fit. Eames moved ahead of him, into a position with a clearer view of the business of the truck.

They watched as boxes were loaded onto the truck from the kitchen. Then they called for back-up and moved in, warrant in hand.

Frakes was unhappy, to say the least. He ranted at Goren and Eames. "You could have just asked, if you wanted to talk to me!"

Goren smiled, while Eames cut open a box that was about to be put on the truck. "Well, sometimes… seeing is believing."

"Bobby," said Eames. He turned. She held up a plastic bag she'd found buried in the case of frozen ground sausage. It looked like cocaine.

Bobby turned to Frakes and cuffed him, reciting his rights.

* * *

Bobby hung back in the observation room. His cough was getting worse, and besides, Eames could handle the interrogation fine without him.

"She was on to you, and you told somebody, and she," Eames set out a crime scene picture of Marina, "and her son," she set out his crime scene picture, "and 11 other people were killed." She set out picture after picture in front of Frakes.

He struggled to keep calm. He had so much he wanted to say, but the pictures of death in front of him reminded him why he should say nothing. At last, he spoke. "I had nothing to do with any of this. I want a lawyer."

Eames left the room, leaving the pictures there for him to peruse. A uniformed officer stayed at attention in the doorway.

"He wanted to talk," Bobby said. "I saw his mouth… working… but he's scared."

She huffed in disgust. "Can you blame him?"

Bobby coughed painfully.

She gave him a look.

"Tomorrow afternoon," he said. "The earliest they could get me in."

Nodding, she walked out in front of him, back to her desk.

"Well, I'm going to track down this bogus company the driver was working for." She opened up her laptop and started working.

Bobby sat down and studied the contents of his binder, yet again.

* * *

With Bobby sick, neither one of them was getting decent rest. She did everything she could to comfort him at home, but the remedies only had temporary success. He took his pillow and went to sleep on the couch again. He didn't want to keep her up.

As he lay there in the dark, he stared at the shadows in the room and his thoughts turned back to snow. That's where this illness had come from. It had crept inside his body when he walked through the snow and now lay like a blanket in his lungs, keeping him from breathing, smothering him. Bobby coughed himself to a fitful sleep.

* * *

Eames dropped off Bobby in the morning, saying she wanted to check on one of her leads from yesterday. He offered to go with her, but she said it was just for information, and she'd be back at 1PP by lunchtime.

"Besides," she said, "You can take a crack at Frakes and his lawyer. Maybe you'll have better luck."

He waved as she drove away, coughed in his elbow, and then turned to go inside.

* * *

Eames drove out to Denison Industries and paid another visit to Frakes' office. She went through his files and pulled one. She sat down at Frakes' desk and began reading, taking a few notes as she went. She was surprised when John Marsh walked in.

"Hello, Mr. Marsh."

"I thought you people were done in here," he said.

"We have access for 2 more days," she said. "It was all in the warrant."

He sat down in a seat across from her. "I suppose it was a failing on my part to let this go on."

She shrugged. "You were scared. The DA's office will understand that." He folded and unfolded his fingers, and this drew her attention back to him.

"There's more," he finally said. "I need to show you something."

Eames followed him out of the building and to his car. Her cell phone was in her pocket; she'd call in her position once they got there.

Frakes and his lawyer sat in the interrogation room. Goren came in with his binder, a package of cough drops, a box of tissues, and a large bottle of orange juice. He poured some juice into a paper cup. "Want some?" He offered, and Frakes declined. Goren coughed, and then explained, "I've got a cold."

The lawyer spoke up. "Mr. Frakes has no knowledge of any activities involving murder. He is willing to admit that he stole food from the canteen at Denison Industries, but he had no knowledge that drugs were hidden in the food boxes."

Bobby stared at the lawyer, then smiled and agreed with him. "Thank you." He turned his attention to Marty. "You had a pretty good thing going, there, didn't you?" Marty stared straight ahead, stone faced. "I mean, you were… honorable… about it. You only took what you needed, nothing more. Once the stuff was gone, it was out of your hands."

Marty's eyes found the detective's.

"These things… these… business arrangements… they blossom over time. It happens in all good businesses. Mom & Pop store, after a while, they open up a second one, pretty soon they've got a chain. Bobby sat up straighter, popped a cough drop in his mouth. He pulled a paper out of his binder. "We discovered yesterday that you had a…an expansion, if you will, going on of your own."

He showed Marty the paperwork.

"You were running a second canteen. You were… branching out."

"Yeah, I picked up another one. It was just temporary, though. I was training Fred Hellstrom to run it. After a couple of months, it would be all his."

Bobby smiled. "You train him in… all aspects… of the business?"

Marty looked down at the table, then at his lawyer, who gave him a nod.

"Sure, he's a friend of a friend. I showed him the ropes."

"A friend of a friend… I guess he probably knows Benny Bernasconi too?"

Marty looked away.

"I'm not trying to bust your balls, here, Marty. I really do admire what you've done. Most guys, they would have ramped it up too fast, got in over their heads, and got busted. You were smart about it. You just made enough to… be comfortable." Bobby coughed heartily, and drank some juice. He leaned back in his chair. "I suppose Fred Hellstrom won't be as tough to crack as you are. I can just talk to him instead. You don't have to tell me the rest, Marty. You're a loyal guy, I get it. You just stay loyal, and I'll…" he grinned and mimed a lasso, "round 'em up another way."

Bobby looked through the photos in his binder, removed the headshot of Marina and admired it. "You know, if it hadn't been for Marina, you would still be in the clear."

Marty's jaw twitched.

"She's the reason we tracked you down. She's the one who dug up," he coughed, "dug up the dirt on you. Now you're looking at 20 years for trafficking… another 20 for grand larceny…"

"That bitch," Marty murmered.

Goren encouraged him. "She ruined everything. How you gonna send your kids to college, Marty?"

He stewed in his anger, and smacked the table.

"You told Benny, you had to."

"That bitch!" He yelled. "I told Benny what that bitch knew, yeah."

"And you even got him into Denison… to see her?"

Marty turned his angry face toward the detective. He nodded silently.

"And you gave him the cable?" Goren coughed. "The cable he used to strangle her?"

"I didn't kill her," he said.

"What about the cable?"

"I didn't give it to him. It was in my office. I was gonna take it home to my kid… he plays guitar."

* * *

Eames and Marsh rode to an abandoned shotgun house. He parked the car, got out, and opened the door for her. "It's just in here," he said.

Her gut was telling her to watch it. She reached down and felt her weapon for reassurance. She followed him in. The wood covering the doorway was torn askew. They stepped around and through the opening.

Once inside, the difference in the light rendered her blind. She gripped her weapon, but was knocked to the floor before she could get it out of the holster. A punch to the face kept her from getting a second chance at it. They ripped her weapon away and shoved her onto her face.

Alex's hands were secured with her own cuffs. They wrapped duct tape around her feet, dragged her into a side room, and left her there.

She saw what looked like regret on Marsh's face as he turned to leave.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

It was well after lunch, and Alex wasn't back yet. Detective Goren flicked a pen back and forth in his fingers, and dialed her number for the 5th time. "Alex, it's Bobby. Just… call in, okay?" he said, and hung up. Something wasn't right. She would have called, if she could. Something had happened.

Bobby looked at the papers on her desk, to determine what could have gone wrong. She was going to Denison, that much he knew. She was going back through Frakes' files, to find where the drugs were headed when they left the factory.

His cough reminded him that he had an appointment at 3. He knew he wasn't going to make it. He left the office, and caught a ride in a cruiser, headed to Denison. Paul was a good guy, happy to do the detective a favor. Bobby's cell rang in the car. "Goren," he said.

The voice on the other end of the phone said an address, nothing more. Bobby stared at the phone and told the officer driving to change course.

The old boarded up house looked eerie in the snow. Bobby stuck his badge on the collar of his coat and readied his weapon. The uniformed officer led the way, weapon in hand. Each man noticed the footprints in the snow on the stairs, and stepped around them. They entered through the broken front door. Paul went right and shouted, "Clear!"

Bobby went left, and saw Alex in a heap on the floor. He ran back and grabbed the other man's walkie. "Officer down!" he shouted. "I need a bus at 1389 Grover Street! Officer down!" he repeated. Then he ran back in to Alex. He looked her over quickly for injuries, and saw nothing more than bruises. Her skin was cold, and her lips were blue.

"Polly ...crates... the movie…" Alex said. She was obviously disoriented.

Bobby took off his stocking hat and put it on her. Then he quickly unlocked the handcuffs and ripped the duct tape free from her legs. He took off his coat and wrapped her in it. Then he carried her out to the cruiser. He got in the back seat with her, and held her torso against him as he shut the door. Paul hurried out of the house and to the car.

"St-start it," Bobby stammered. The cop jumped in the driver's seat and started the heat going. He raised it to full blast.

Alex spoke again. "Dad?" she asked Bobby.

"You're going to be all right, Alex, help is on the way," Bobby said.

When the bus arrived, Bobby got out and let the EMTs do their work. They transferred her to a gurney and then into the ambulance. Once inside, the EMT gave Bobby back his coat. He took it but didn't put it on until the doors were closed and he'd given the bus a good smack. It drove away, and he slipped his coat back on. He couldn't feel her heat in the fabric.

Bobby and the other officer proceeded to begin an investigation of the house and the yard surrounding the house.

* * *

Back at 1PP, Mike Logan was finishing up another report. "Officer down!" When Bobby's voice came across the radio, the room got very still. Mike stood, grabbed his coat, and hurried out the door.

* * *

CID had just arrived at the house. Goren was out back, squatted at the edge of the alley behind the house, studying tire tracks in the snow. Mike walked purposefully through the snow and clapped Goren on the shoulder.

"Go," he said. "I got this." Logan gave him the keys to his car.

Without a word, Bobby hurried out front, got in, and drove away.

* * *

When he arrived at the hospital, Eames was in the E.R., with an IV in her arm and oxygen over her mouth and nose. There were special warmers attached to the devices. A heart monitor was at work beside her.

Bobby stepped into the room with her and took a position at her side. She had a look of pain on her face, and he hurt too, just to see it. He sat by her side for hours as the doctors slowly warmed her body.

His coughing attracted the attention of the people caring for Alex.

"C'mere," said the female doctor who was checking in frequently on Eames. "Let me listen." She held up her stethoscope. Bobby moved closer and followed her instructions as she listened to his lungs. She wrote out a prescription and handed it to him.

"You need to go home and get some rest."

He looked at Alex and spoke his thoughts aloud, "Where she is, that's home."

The doctor left the room and returned a few minutes later with a small box. "Just take these samples, and get the prescription filled before tomorrow night. You need the medicine."

He nodded. "Thanks, Doc." Bobby tore open the box and took the sample medication right away.

* * *

Tears slid down Alex's cheeks. "Alex?" he asked quietly, as he brushed the tears away. The oxygen mask was gone, and he was able to caress her face.

She opened her eyes, and more teardrops fell. The pain was intense. She tried to reach out for Bobby, but she couldn't tell if her fingers were doing as they were asked or not.

He closed both of his warm hands around hers. "I love you," he said.

Alex was in more pain than she could remember. It was like all of the cells in her body were screaming their way back to life. But Bobby was here, and that helped. She hitched her breath against the pain and more tears fell, but she held his hand as tight as she could.

* * *

Logan came by the next morning to get his car keys. He peeked in the door of the hospital room and saw Goren dozing in the chair next to Eames. She was sound asleep, still hooked to an IV. He looked at Bobby. He'd just spoken with him 20 minutes before, and he'd managed to fall asleep in the chair before Logan got there.

He walked into the room and gently nudged Goren on the shoulder. "Hey," he said. "Hey, Goren, wake up."

Bobby woke quickly and rubbed his eyes. "Oh, sorry," he said. He dug into his pocket for Mike's keys. He handed them over.

"She's gonna be all right," Logan said.

"Yeah," said Bobby in a hushed tone. "The doc said it might take a week or two to recover, but she'll be all right." He coughed.

Mike shook his hand. Before he left, he said, "Tell her I said Hi."

Bobby nodded. He scrubbed his face with his hands and got up to stretch. Alex was out, and after the pain she'd endured the night before, he was glad to see it. He pulled the prescription out of his pocket and went downstairs to get it filled.

* * *

Bobby was asleep in the chair again, his head back against the rest and his mouth wide open. The phone ringing woke him. "Goren," he mumbled. He listened carefully as Logan filled him in on the investigation. "Uhm…there was a…" Goren thought hard, trying to bring back the clarity to his memory of the day before. "There was a blue sedan… someone was in it. It drove away just when CID arrived."

"What happened just before that?" Logan asked.

"Uhm… I called it in, we got Alex to the car, waited for the bus. The bus left, Paulie and I went back in to check the scene."

"How long between the bus leaving and CID?" Asked Logan.

"Ah, uh, 5 minutes," Goren said. He closed his eyes and thought hard again. "A blue Lexus. Probably 2009 or 10. License… started with APX… okay, thanks Logan."

He folded the phone and put it back in his pocket. Then he looked at his love. She was awake, and had been listening to his call. He smiled. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," she replied.

Bobby felt he should explain. "Logan's taking over the case until we're back on it."

Her eyes closed, but she had a smile on her lips.

"You're feeling better," he observed. "The pain's stopped?"

She looked at him and nodded. He was relieved. "I'm hungry," she said.

He looked at the clock on the wall. "Lunch is supposed to be at noon," he said. "It won't be too long."

"Marsh drove me there…" she said quietly. "There were others…not sure how many…"

Goren nodded gravely and his jaw twitched.

"Bobby," she said, seeing the anger in his face. "Marsh…I don't think…he wanted to do it."

_But he did. That bastard drove you out there so they could beat you and leave you for dead. _Goren didn't speak his thoughts aloud.

"How did you find me?" she asked.

Something snapped inside Bobby's head, and the anger was turned on its head. "I got a call… just an address…"

"Marsh?"

Bobby shrugged, not wanting to admit the man who'd put her in danger also saved her life. "Maybe."

He coughed then, and a look of concern crossed her face. "Your appointment…"

He retrieved the pill bottle from his pocket and shook it like a shaker. "It's okay," he said.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Bobby went into the office in the afternoon and found Logan slumped over the paperwork at his desk. "Hey," said Logan cheerfully. "We picked up Marsh, but he's not talking. Too scared."

Bobby coughed into his sleeve. "Let me deal with that. What about the Lexus?"

"Tracking it down now. Only 4 more pages of licenses that begin with APX to go."

"Sorry, I should've got the whole thing."

Mike just stared at him. Nobody but Goren would have noticed the first three characters of that license plate, much less the whole thing. The car wasn't in the least bit suspicious until after they pieced together what happened. "Well, next time," he said, not feeling the need to get under Goren's skin today. Logan went back to reading.

Bobby picked up the phone and made arrangements to interrogate John Marsh.

* * *

Marsh was sitting in the interrogation room, this time in an orange jumpsuit. He looked resigned about his fate. His lawyer sat next to him.

Goren entered, binder in hand. He sat down across from Marsh and looked squarely at both men. Then he cleared his throat. "Before we start," he said, "I just want to thank you… for saving my partner's life."

The lawyer looked up with interest. Marsh's expression didn't change, but he made eye contact with Goren again.

"She's… uhm… more than just my partner, and… well, thank you."

The lawyer perked up. "What are you saying?" he asked.

"Well," Goren began, "He's too scared to tell anyone, but just before we found her, I received an anonymous call telling me where to look." He smiled at Marsh. "It was him." He smiled at Marsh again. "Eames is grateful, too. She told me to give you her thanks, as well."

The lawyer looked at Marsh. "You did this? This could change everything for you."

"Well, no it won't," Bobby said simply. "Because… he's too scared to make it public. He wanted to play ball with the big boys, but all he managed was to be the bat boy."

"I never wanted to get involved at all," he hissed.

Bobby sat and waited for him to continue.

"It was Marty's problem. But then I had to get wrapped up in it." He looked at Detective Goren. "I don't want to get killed, too."

"I don't want you to get killed, either," Bobby said quietly, and he meant it. "What you need to remember is that they have people on the inside and the outside of prison." Bobby sat back and rubbed his neck. "The question is: where will you feel safer?"

The lawyer spoke up. "I can make a deal with the D.A.'s office, we can find a way for you to avoid jail time."

Bobby's eyes bore into Marsh's. "The D.A. will deal with you. You saved my partner's life. You did the right thing."

Marsh took a deep breath and shuddered. Tears slipped down his cheeks as he spoke. "It was Mangin. He's a friend of Bernasconi. And those other guys, the ones who… hurt your partner. They're friends of his, too. But Mangin's the killer. We dropped her at the house, and left her to wait for him. He was going to take her out, the same as Ehrlanger." He sobbed hard. "I never wanted to get mixed up in all this! I just didn't know what to do!"

Bobby scrawled names in his ledger, copied them on another paper, and handed the note to the uniformed officer at the door. The uniform took the note out to the detectives in the bullpen and then returned. "Go through it one step at a time," Bobby said, ready to write every word.

* * *

"Bingo," said Logan, reading the license plate on a blue lexus. He got on the radio and called for backup. Within minutes, a whole team of cops moved in on the house, weapons at the ready.

"Dennis Mangin!" Logan shouted. "Open up, police!"

The door didn't budge. Mike stood out of the way as some other men rammed it with a rod. Then he and some other officers stepped inside carefully. Mike went upstairs, as the other officers shouted "clear!" in the rooms they were in.

Mike saw a bedroom door was ajar. He sidestepped to it and tapped it open with the nose of his gun. As the door opened wider, Mike saw Mangin trying to climb into the top of the closet. "Mangin!" Mike called. "Police! Come down!"

The man continued climbing. Mike stuffed his gun in his holster, ran over, and jumped. He caught Mangin around the thighs and both men tumbled to the floor. The uniformed officers pulled Mangin off Logan, cuffed him, and patted him down. Mike got to his feet and brushed himself off.

"Dennis Mangin, you're under arrest for multiple counts of homicide. You have the right to remain silent…"

* * *

Bobby helped Alex out of the car. He kept his arm around her as they walked into their apartment building. Bobby unlocked the door and Alex entered. He followed her into the bedroom and helped her take off her shoes.

"Bobby," she said firmly, "Give me a minute."

He nodded. "I'll just… go get the rest of the stuff out of the car…" He turned and went out the door.

Alex pushed herself up to a standing position. She wriggled out of her clothes and opened her top dresser drawer, looking at her sleepwear. Then she shoved it shut and opened Bobby's 2nd drawer. She extracted his navy blue NYPD t-shirt and slipped it over her head. She was about to get into bed when Bobby returned.

He grinned. "I haven't seen you wear that in a long time," he said.

She shrugged. "It's comfortable." She climbed into bed and he tucked her in. After a few minutes of changing, he crawled into the bed next to her and spooned her, putting his arm over her waist.

Bobby kissed her bare neck.

She put her arm over his and stroked it gently. "Comfortable," she repeated.

Bobby's eyes caught the reflection in the mirror of the window. The snow fell steadily and covered the city like a soft white blanket. He thought of the word again, and all the negative connotations he'd conjured up before were replaced by the beauty of it. Sometimes silence was healing. Snow could insulate people from the harsher cold. It could illuminate what lurked in shadows. Snow could conceal all the imperfections, and create magnificence, if only for a night.

The End


End file.
